


Kneeling for the Sacrament

by gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, M/M, Master/Servant, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 16:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows
Summary: Loki's King of Asgard and Steve Rogers is his very own captain. It's an... interesting relationship.





	Kneeling for the Sacrament

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t expecting to get to this fic quite so soon… or ever… but that _Avengers: Endgame_ Super Bowl trailer simultaneously destroyed my last shred of hope for this movie, **AND** also somehow released me from the last ten months of _Infinity War_ -induced fandom depression. 
> 
> So here, have some Stoki smut. I think this takes place after _Civil War_ , but other than that? I actively strove _not_ to think about plot or logistics too much. [I had some photos, I wanted to make this happen](http://gaslightgallows.tumblr.com/post/182662780927). Make up your own backstory, I’m really just here for the blowjobs.
> 
> If you're over on Tumblr, please consider following me at [gaslightgallows.tumblr.com](http://gaslightgallows.tumblr.com/) for more fic, reblogs about writing, and lots of randomness. Thank you for reading and especially for commenting. Comments are love. ♥

The late afternoon sunlight was warm on Loki’s face, and the salt-tinged breeze as well, as he stood upon the wide swoop of the royal balcony and gazed with a certain satisfaction over the scope of his domain. 

Asgard. 

It was all his. 

Even after years on the throne, his mind still couldn’t quite plumb the depths of his own good fortune. But it was real enough: it stretched out before him, golden and green in the softening light, and if the tiny demon of guilt gnawed at him from time to time, in the shape of the old one-eyed man he had left on Earth, well, there were always prices to pay to get what one wanted. 

Sometimes – as the warrior approaching Loki well knew – the price was even worth it. 

“Sire.”

It was the closest thing resembling a courtesy that Loki had yet gotten from Captain Rogers. Not ‘Your Majesty’, not ‘My king’, only that single ‘Sire’ bitten off between his teeth as though it was too bitter to let linger on the palate. 

Only ‘Sire’, and to Loki’s mingled arousal and annoyance, it thrilled every atom in his body whenever he heard it. 

He turned and regarded Rogers with deep satisfaction. The captain stood at attention in the presence of the king of Asgard, and in the privacy of his shielded viewing platform, Loki let the guise of Odin drop and faced Rogers as himself, in all his formal, helmeted glory. “Ah, Captain. How goes the safeguarding of my realm?”

Rogers made his report briskly, and Loki listened with half an ear, concentrating more on the beauty of the soft sunlight on his captain’s uncovered yellow hair, and the golden-and-green of the armor that Rogers had, begrudgingly, accepted as part of his new life. His gloved hands were folded behind his back, but even if Loki ordered him to be comfortable, it would make no difference. He was a self-contained man, in public, and wild demonstrative gesticulations were not his way. 

Not to say he didn’t make other use of his hands. Particularly in private...

A memory took hold of Loki, like a knife to the throat, and every muscle from his neck to his calves suddenly went rigid, recalling how it had felt to be speared, methodically and mercilessly, on the slicked fingers of those hands—

“Sire?”

Loki snapped back from the ecstasy of a week prior and found the captain looking at him with eyebrows raised. “Sorry,” he gasped. “Flashback.”

“I know how that is,” said Rogers neutrally. 

Loki frowned. “I’m sure you do... something on your mind, Captain Rogers?”

“You could say that.”

“Enlighten me, by all means.”

“The work you have me doing. The training, the fortifications, the rearmament. I don’t like it.”

“You’re not here to ‘like’ anything, only to obey orders.”

“Well, I’m not always very good at that. Especially if obeying orders leads to innocent people dying. Look, when you found me in that wreckage, we made a deal. I said I’d come here and serve you if you’d bring Bucky to Asgard and help him.”

“If you would pledge loyalty to me, is – I believe – how the conditions were phrased. If you would... obey my commands.” Loki paused, but Captain Rogers didn’t deny it, only clenched his jaw a touch. He pushed a little further. “Is that not so?”

“I do what you ask. In return for you helping Bucky.”

“And I am doing so. He’s recuperating well.”

“He is, and I’m grateful enough for that to do almost whatever you need me to do. Almost. But I’m not going to lead Asgard’s armies against Earth. Or any other planet. You find someone else to do that dirty work.” 

“Ahh, so noble... And if I said I was only interested in securing the safety of this realm? My predecessor did not make many friends among those he conquered.”

“I promised to help defend Asgard. That doesn’t include taking the fight to anyone else, especially if they haven’t made their play yet. And I want your word you won’t ask me to do that.” 

“...‘My word.’ There aren’t many who would accept that on faith alone.”

And they both knew why. 

“You’ve kept faith with us,” Rogers said, his voice calm and noncommittal, even if his eyes were not. “That’s good enough for me.” 

Against his will, Loki smiled, almost tenderly. “I know you’re tired of fighting, Steve,” he said, and was rewarded with a sudden sideways glance. “So I give you my word: I will only ask you to take up arms again if the fight comes to us.”

Steve nodded, but he didn’t seem entirely content with the reassurance. “I guess I’ll have to take up some hobbies, then, because I’m not sure how much more training I can give your soldiers. They’re pretty well beyond me, as it is.”

“The stables are open to you,” said Loki, coming in out of the direct sunlight, into the shaded place where Steve lingered, “as is the armory. And the library. There are drawing and painting masters who would welcome a serious student. And there are courtiers of all genders – always a pleasant diversion.”

Steve half-grinned, half-grimaced, and shook his head. “Not really my thing.”

“Sergeant Barnes doesn’t shun softer company, so why should you? I’ve not heard of him leaving any of his nightly companions disappointed.” 

“So Asgardians kiss and tell? Or you’ve been sending all those women to spy on him?” 

“I merely requested, should they spend a night with Sergeant Barnes, that they should come to me afterward and report on his skills. Everyone has been most complimentary.” 

“Maybe I don’t want stories of my ‘skills’ getting around court.”

“Or maybe you’re sparing of your attentions. Uninterested in lovers... save the one you’ve already got.”

“Is that what you are? Sire?”

Loki took a step forward, and then another, until his face and Steve’s were barely a breath apart. “You lack respect, Captain. It think it’s time you were on your knees before your king.”

“You’re not my king,” came the automatic response. 

Loki’s lips parted in a sharp smile. “Your god, then.”

“Not even close. You’re just a job. Sir.”

The demotion from Sire to Sir made Loki’s grin widen and his insides clutch, and the king’s staff came down to rest, very heavily, on Steve’s shoulder. “Kneel.”

It was even odds whether he would choose to obey or not. Sometimes he did, sometimes he chose to repeat their very first meeting in Stuttgart, with a skillful kick to the head as Loki’s only entertainment for the evening. In some things, his captain could be predictable, but not in this.

For a moment or two, Steve’s jaw worked tightly, and Loki tensed in anticipation of an attack to dodge. Then a wave of emotion seemed to pass over and through the captain, and he sank to his knees with an air of deceptively humorous resignation.

“There’s only one god, sir,” he said, his eyes betraying the determination his light tone would not. “And I’m pretty sure He doesn’t want me to worship like this.”

Loki gripped a fistful of Steve’s hair. “How boring.” He let the king’s staff of office clatter to the inlaid floor, and slipped his free hand under his tunic, to the fastenings of his breeches, working them open. He saw the muscle in Steve’s cheek jump minutely in anticipation, thought he saw a hint of tongue flicking out to lick the red mouth hungrily. 

He stroked a hand down his cock, already hard and aching for the captain – _his_ captain – and brushed the swollen head over Steve’s lips. “Ah,” he said briefly, when Steve reached for him. Loki’s fingers tightened warningly in Steve’s hair. “Hands to yourself, if you please.”

“Not fair. You’re too big for that and you know it.”

“All’s fair. Unless you’re admitting defeat this time?”

But the light of battle was in Steve’s eyes now. Obligingly, he clasped his hands around Loki’s thighs, steadying himself with a grip that was as much to remind Loki of his strength as it was to keep his own balance, and Loki all but purred as the wet heat of Steve’s mouth enveloped his cock. 

“You really don’t know when to yield, do you? I do like that about you...”

Steve said nothing, only glanced up and then deliberately scraped his teeth up the sensitive underside of Loki’s cock. The sharp points of pain jolted through Loki, and his hips bucked of their own volition. Steve choked and tried to ease off, but Loki held him there, until his mouth and throat relaxed. 

“You’ve got too clever a mouth, you know,” Loki murmured, both hands buried in Steve’s hair, caressing and clenching by turns and doing his best to stay still. “Too clever by far. I ought to know; I’ve got one of my own.”

Steve hummed and sucked wetly in pursuit of his goal, and that his goal should be his king’s pleasure thrilled Loki to no end. But Loki’s ears were filled with the sounds he had made some time before, when he had been in Steve’s place and Steve had been prone on his back in Loki’s bed.

_“My god...”_

_“I knew I’d get you to call me that eventually.”_

_“Fuck you, Sire.”_

_Loki shrugged. “As you like.”_

_“Fuck you and—oh my god... oh my **god!** ”_

“Say it, Captain,” Loki groaned, alternating fisting and slacking his fingers in Steve’s hair as he moved. “Only that, and you can have anything you want. You can go home.” 

Steve pulled back for a second to catch his breath and to look up at Loki in gasping disbelief. “You’d let me go?”

“I am a man of my word.”

“When you choose to be.”

“Will you say it?”

Steve’s eyes burned up at Loki, and then he lunged for the king’s cock again, taking him down almost savagely, pushing his back up against a stone pillar Loki hadn’t even realized was there. He did something with his tongue to the head and base of Loki’s cock simultaneously and Loki came with a sharp high shout, knocking his helmet back against the stone and making the metal ring. 

His fingers let go of Steve’s hair, reluctantly, and he leaned against the support pillar to catch his breath. 

“That ‘respectful’ enough for you, sir?”

“It’s... a fine start, captain.”

Gasping, Steve sat back heavily on his heels, tore off his gloves, wiped the back of his hand over his swollen mouth, and reached for his crotch.

“Hands off.”

“Hey, you told me to keep my hands to myself.”

“And now I’m telling you, hands off.” With the tip of his boot, Loki lightly knocked Steve’s hand away from his own, no doubt very demanding, erection. “That’s mine to see to.”

“When?”

“Tonight. At some point.”

“...Bastard.” Steve climbed slowly to his feet, his face red with his exertions and the bulge of his cock showing plainly under the bottom of his chain mail tunic, and instead of rubbing himself off, he rubbed his neck and carefully moved his jaw from side to side, as though the muscles pained him. 

_As well they might,_ thought Loki smugly, fastening his breeches with brisk, efficient movements of his hands. “Captain. You will come to my bed tonight?”

“That an order?”

“A request.”

Steve licked an errant white drop from the corner of his mouth, and shrugged. “I’ll think about it. Sir.”


End file.
